


The Right Choice

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: Sherlock tries to fully understand the events in Sherrinford - basically a deep, meaningful conversation between the Holmes boys





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

Mycroft sat in John's armchair in 221B Baker Street with his little brother sitting opposite him.

“What is it, Sherlock?”

“Hmm?”

“You've been staring at me like that for the past 10 minutes and it is getting rather… disturbing,” he rolled his tongue around the word.

“No reason.” He folded his hands up beneath his chin.

“There's always a reason.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Are you being deliberately difficult?” It was probably a stupid question, he was always deliberately difficult.

“Why have you never said anything?”

Mycroft tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. He knew what his brother was talking about, he contemplated playing dumb but knew there was no point. He wouldn't sink down to Sherlock's level when it came to stupidity.

“I was 7 when you were born.”

“Obviously.”

“I… Mummy and Daddy were always… very quiet. They tried for years for another child. I grew up quite quickly, you see. They missed those intermediate years between a baby and a child… Mummy miscarried many times before she became pregnant with you. They never told me, I had to deduce, after the first time… they didn't want to upset me if something went wrong again. I noticed 3 miscarriages without them saying anything, I was 4.”

“Mummy miscarried? Why?”

“Hyperthyroidism. She was diagnosed after I was born.”

“3 times? Before me.”

“3 times that I am aware of. I'm sure there were more, they got better at hiding things once they realised I knew. They were overjoyed when you came along, Sherlock, they tried so hard for you… in a way I suppose I was jealous.”

“But you weren't an accident. They wanted you. Daddy said so years ago, Mummy gave up on her career for you. For us.”

“I know… I suppose losing so many… chances made the ones she had even more special. I was jealous to begin, because I thought I would be pushed aside. That never happened.”

“But they never speak of it.”

“You never mentioned Redbeard again, Sherlock. Something changed in you on that day. And they thought she was dead, after the horror she had caused you… us, they had to be… strong,” he struggled around the word. “They never had a reason to speak of it.”

“So, 'caring isn't an advantage' is bollocks then?”

“I've always said it, Sherlock, but I've never believed it. I rather think I would cease to exist without you and I rather think you would cease to exist without him.” Mycroft moved his eyes across the room to where John was laid fast asleep on the sofa, Rosie tucked into the crook of his arm, her head nuzzled into his collar bone. “So caring is most definitely an advantage, little brother. I said it because of what you believed, what you've always believed.”

“Why?”

Mycroft sat forward as he thought of a suitable way to explain it.

“You always believed Redbeard was put down. You developed a… sort of situation-specific amnesia when Victor went missing and the more Eurus taunted you about it, the more you needed to forget. You replaced the memory of your friend with that of a dog because it was so much easier to lose one than the other.”

“But Eurus said it… why didn't you tell me about her?”

“She killed your best friend, Sherlock. I thought if you knew…”

“It would make me remember.”

The older Holmes inclined his head. “I did contemplate telling you about her when you developed an attachment to John. I could see the cycle repeating itself and I didn't trust myself to be there for you as I wasn't the first time.”

“We were children Mycroft, it wasn't you're fault.”

“I've said before, memories of Eurus aren't pleasant ones. Any of them. Even as a baby she was spiteful.”

“Spiteful how?”

“You were such a happy child, Sherlock, you developed much like I did, but she couldn't understand the emotion. There is just under a year between you and our little sister, but she did everything at your speed, if not quicker. I walked in on you once, she had your… genitalia in her fist while you screamed. It was hard to…” he drifted off, staring into the fireplace. “You were crying so much, hurting, but the house was so large nobody heard.”

“You protected me.”

“I protected you,” he repeated. “I had to.”

“You chose me over her. How?”

“She was unhinged, Sherlock from a very young age. But not only that… before you met Victor you were very close to me… that day I walked in on her doing that to you… I may have only been 10, but I made my choice.”

“You made the right choice.”

Both Holmeses looked over and saw John awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He shifted himself upright and moved Rosie around so she could curl into his lap instead

“It was the only choice,” Mycroft countered. “Everything, ever since the day Victor went missing, you've always come first Sherlock. Always.”

There was the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“Ah… little brother I have something to tell you.” He got to his feet leaning on his umbrella and chuckling silently at the events that had unfolded because of it a few weeks ago.

“Greg. Come in,” Sherlock ordered before the door could be knocked on.

“Oh, brother dear, you really are the slow one, aren't you?”

“Sherlock?”

The DI wandered in and went straight to Mycroft to take his hand.

“Who do you think…?” Sherlock nodded between Greg and his brother. Then he smirked.

“You sod,” Mycroft spoke, but he was still sporting a smile.

“Oh, come on, you took Lady Smallwood's number because you felt guilty that you're terrible baby brother had screwed up big time. You needed to make it up to her and it was the only way you knew how. Even if it wouldn't have worked. But admit it, big brother, you're as gay as I am.”

John choked on nothing even as Rosie looked up at him having been awake for a while.

“Gay,” she said and John just broke down in a fit of giggles. Rosie rolled off the sofa and toddled over to the detective who scooped her up.

The government official and the DI stared at John for a moment before turning their attention on Sherlock.

He, too, had been watching the doctor, as he jiggled Rosie about on his lap, “Oh yeah, he does that.”


End file.
